Mon Chevalier
by Pyrinsomniac
Summary: -Complete- Cautious rating for events occuring in later chapters. This is a George Marie- Louise story written for LivEvil... Marie- Louise is kidnapped. How far will George go to get her back? Post- Series (of Crises, which is post- series...)
1. Boogeyman

This is for LivEvil, whose numerous and kind reviews were a wonderful, wonderful boost while I was writing A Series of Crises.  

Marie- Louise sat at her dressing- table, sunlight from the huge floor to ceiling windows glinting in her hair.  

            "You have such beautiful golden curls." the long- dead Queen of Neo- France admired, running her slim fingers through them.  

            "Exactly like yours." the King observed from his post in the doorway.  

            The Queen gasped and whirled around in a flurry of skirts, putting a protective hand on the shoulder of the Princess sitting behind her.  "Don't sneak up on us like that!  You scared the wits out of me."

            "I didn't 'sneak.'" the King retorted.  "Besides, you've wits enough to spare a few."

            She scowled at him, but he could see the smile lurking beneath it.  "Speaking of sneaking," she said conversationally, "there's someone sneaking up on _you right now."_

            The King glanced over his shoulder.  "There is no one there."

            "That's because you're asleep." she replied, in a tone that put _you dolt_ at the end.

            The King stared at her.  Perhaps she'd laced that corset too tightly…?  

            The Queen gave her daughter's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.  "Do you remember the sword I gave you?"

            "Of course."  It was an ancient one that she'd found herself, and had had restored as a present to him in celebration of Marie- Louise's birth.  It was now hanging above the King's bed as both a tribute to her and a silent reminder of his resolution to never fail to protect his family again.  

            "Use it." she commanded, and the golden light from her hair drifted down and started blurring her.  "Use it well."

            "Wait." the King pled, striding quickly toward her and stretching out a hand in supplication.  "Please, wait…"

            She only smiled at him again, but instead of joy, this one was tinged with sadness and her eyes had a profound, _knowing look.  She shimmered and faded, and the King was left staring at where she'd been.  _

            Marie- Louise gave him the same sad smile.  "Time to wake up, Father."  

            And with a jerk, that was exactly what he did.  He lay aching for a minute before abruptly sitting up and grabbing the sword.  

            A glint in the darkness, above his head…

            Aged though they were, the King's reflexes were still quick, and the ring of steel meeting steel filled his bedchamber.  The King's mysterious assailant sprang to the floor on the side of the bed and made another attempt with his sword, blocked again by the King as he shouted for guards and scrambled out of bed.  

            The would- be assassin chased the King with his blade, landing a shallow slash on the sovereign's back and another on his side before they simultaneously hit the floor.  The intruder pressed forward, his blade darting this way and that like a snake's tongue.  

            "**Guards!" the King bellowed, blocking another strike and having his counterattack blocked in return.  **

            The doorway finally filled with dazzling light, blinding the King, who immediately began fiercely blinking; he could hear the shouts of dying men, what would undoubtedly be extremely expensive property damage, and the thuds and grunts of men hitting the floor; a burning smell from the guards' guns and the odor of a great deal of blood filled his nose.  

            His eyes finally cleared, only to find his elite guards sprawled on the now- bloody floor.  The ruins of paintings and statues lay everywhere, and there were numerous holes in the walls.  

            The King dashed into the hall; more dead guards.  "Where did he go?" he demanded of one of the injured.  

            "That way, Your Majesty…" the man replied, pointing.  "But Bouriste got him, sir, he's hurt…"

            The King ran down the hall, sword clutched tightly in his hand, heart going a mile a minute.  

            _He's headed toward Marie- Louise's wing…_

*

            The Princess was having a rather pleasant dream involving George de Sand and copious amounts of roses when the sensation of being picked up and slung around like a bag of grain brought her annoyingly awake.  

            "What the…?" she asked, at opening her eyes to find herself draped unflatteringly over the shoulder of a man clad all in black, with a sword at his side and a gun in one hand; the other was on the backs of her knees, holding her in place.  "Let me go!" she demanded, pounding her little fists on his back.  "Let me go this instant!"

            "That chance is as fat as you." her abductor huffed, jumping out one of the closed windows.  

            Marie- Louise watched the ground rushing up to meet her with an earsplitting shriek, but the man merely bent his knees- and landed on his feet, much to her half- fearful and half- grateful astonishment.  He ran toward the wall- _but that's insane,_ she thought in panic, _the security system will fry us both!_

            Doors all over the palace opened, and a veritable army of guards came streaming out.  Marie- Louise's attention was drawn to her kidnapper again as he fired a different gun from the one he'd had the last time she'd looked; a line shot from it, attaching itself to the wall.  The next thing she knew, they were in the air, and the man landed on the top of the wall and jumped down.  She was reminded, for an instant, of when George had saved her from Gentle Chapman… but the difference between that situation and this was brought forcefully home to her when he unceremoniously dumped her down and twisted an arm behind her back.  

            "**Run." he growled.  "Any mistakes and I break your arm."  He wrenched it, and she cried out.  **

            "I understand!"

            He didn't answer, but instead shoved her forward, and Marie- Louise began running as best she could.  

A/N:  I always pictured Marie- Louise's mother as being younger than her father, and looking a lot like her daughter- only more mature and with a slightly different face.  I've also always pictured her wearing clothes kind of like something from Gone With the Wind, since Marie- Louise's dresses have a bit of that feel about them; and in my mind the somewhat odd dress comes from an interest in and respect of the past.  Oh, and the guards' guns are like Chibodee's; they shoot energy, not bullets.  Cookies to anyone who reads this.  


	2. Just Talking

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" George asked, stopping in the doorway to the King's study and waiting for the older man's signal to enter.  At another gesture of the royal hand, George took a seat in front of the King's desk.  

            He frowned.  The King seemed unusually disturbed today; he looked as though he didn't know what to do with his hands, and kept gazing off into space before coming back to himself.  Finally the King walked over to a window and gazed out onto the Palace grounds.  

            His voice was quiet and tense when he finally spoke.  "George, as short as it's been, your life has been one of service."  He half- turned to look at the redhead.  "Your family have always prided themselves on their loyalty to the royal house and Neo- France, correct?"

            George drew himself up proudly.  "Yes, Your Majesty.  The de Sand house serves the royal family and Neo- France; as a knight, it is my duty to devote my life to the same noble task."  

            The King walked back over to his desk and heavily took his seat.  "I need your help, George."

            "I will do whatever is required of me, Your Majesty." the Gundam fighter earnestly promised.  

            "My daughter… has been kidnapped."  It sounded as though the words were torn from his throat.

            George's back stiffened and his violet eyes widened in surprise.  "Not- not the Princess?" he asked, voice cracking on her title, to his embarrassment.  

            The King's pained eyes met his own.  "Yes.  The Princess Marie- Louise has been kidnapped by a man who tried to assassinate me last night."

            George's face showed nothing, but his thoughts were a tempest of emotion.  _I will kill him_, he thought coldly, and though he was at first shocked at the thought he was unable to disagree with it.  Instead, he only replied, "I will find the Princess and avenge the crimes that this assassin has committed against you, Your Majesty.  I pledge it on my honor as a knight."

            "Thank you, George." the King murmured.  "I knew I could count on you."  He seemed to rally himself.  "I've had search parties out all night, of course, but none of them found anything.  All we know is that he went from my chamber to Marie- Louise's, jumped out the window with her, and went over the wall."  A troubled frown crossed the King's face.  "It should have been impossible.  All entrances are guarded and monitored.  My chambers and Marie- Louise's are both under especially heavy guard, and the soldiers that protect us are elite, handpicked and specially trained by the generals themselves.  And it should have been impossible for him to make it over the wall; I've never seen anyone but a Gundam fighter able to do such things; besides that, the security system should have shocked him."

            George collected himself with difficulty.  "Is there anyone who could have given that information to the would- be assassin, who had enough money to hire someone of his skill, and who has a reason to want you dead?"

            The King laughed hollowly.  "Any number of people in higher society.  There's a rather long list of successors to the throne, you know, times being what they are… I believe that you're on the list, actually."

            For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, George was rocked to the core.  "_Me_?  But Majesty, I'm not- I'm nobly born, but not **royally**-"

            "You are nobly born, it's true, but your place on that list has more to do with your position as a Gundam fighter- not to mention a member of the Shuffle Alliance- than with your birth."  The King's eyes softened as he looked at the young man who had surprised him so many times- even awed him, on occasion.  "Put it out of your mind, George.  It doesn't matter."  His voice turned brisk.  "What matters now is finding Marie- Louise."

            George's face abandoned its shocked expression in favor of a resolute one.  "Yes, Your Majesty."

            "Bring my daughter back to me." the King commanded hoarsely, eyes burning into George's own.  

            The self- styled knight drew himself up proudly.  "Yes, Your Majesty."  

            The King watched him leave.  He didn't know what it was about the boy, but watching him, the King couldn't help but hope.  

A/N:  Short, I know, and dull.  The beginning of the next chapter's going to be dull too, but who knows, it might pick up midway through.  ;)  I know I mentioned the eyes a lot, but George's are so pretty- besides, they do say they're the window to the soul.  Cookies to readers and more to reviewers.  


	3. Deadline

George's violet eyes darted around a wall; it was where the guards had told him the kidnapper had leapt over it.  

            Nothing.

            He straightened, and on a sudden impulse asked the guard to temporarily shut off the electricity in the wall.  

            The guard stared at him uneasily.  He was under orders not to shut off the electricity for any reason; however, this was a Gundam fighter- the Jack of Diamonds!- who had been personally asked by the King to find the Princess; he picked up the phone to call his superior, not taking his eyes off George.  

            "I can assure you that you will not be punished for indulging my request." George said politely.  "If you are, please tell your superior officers to come to me."

            The soldier put down the phone and shut off the wall.  "I'll hold you to your word."

            "Then you have no reason to worry." George replied smoothly, striding away.  He looked at the grass.  Yes, this was where the kidnapper had landed; there were indentations in the ground.  George frowned.  They should have been **much** deeper if the man came from the window, especially if he'd been holding Marie- Louise at the time.  

            In a move that would have been abrupt if it hadn't been so graceful, the knight broke into a headlong rush toward the wall.  

            The guards had said that the King's attacker had used a special gun to assist him with making it high enough into the air, but that was probably because he'd had an unhappy teenage girl slung over a shoulder.  George should be able to make it without such a device…

            He jumped.  

            For a minute, he thought he was going to come up short and smack painfully into the wall, and the guard gave an alarmed shout; then his feet touched the top of the wall and the relieved knight balanced himself there, looking down at the guard.  

            "Please turn the electricity back on, and thank you for your assistance."  

            He landed on the sidewalk on the public side of the wall and looked around.  There were three directions the kidnapper could have gone- _I doubt he'd go that way, there are too many people; or that way, the Head of the Guard said that his men were combing the area thoroughly but hadn't found anything.  That just leaves this way…_

              He started walking.

*

            Almost an hour later, he was giving up hope of finding anything when a small bit of white caught his eye.  

            He hurried over to it, and his heart lifted and dropped at once.  George picked it up reverently.  

            A small ribbon…

            His expression darkened.  If this was Marie- Louise's- and he was sure it was- how had it gotten out here?  He was sure she wouldn't have grabbed a ribbon as she was being kidnapped.  And she wouldn't use a ribbon to tie her hair back as she slept, would she?  

            He glared at the innocent piece of cloth.  If it had come off her nightgown, things could be worse than he'd initially thought… he took a closer look.  No rough edges or indications that it had been ripped off; well, that was something, at least.  

            George slipped the ribbon into a pocket.  Marie- Louise had done a good deal of growing up in the past year; perhaps she'd managed to drop it as a clue.  

            With new purpose, he started forward again.  

*

            George shook his head.  "No, the ribbon was the only thing I found."

            Rain bit her lip.  "Well, I'm sorry, George, but I really can't think of anything-" she stopped and jerked her head toward Domon.  "Asherah!"

            "What?" he asked, looking at her.  

            She turned back to the Frenchman.  "Asherah might be able to help you.  It's worth a try, at least."

            "But we don't know where she is." Domon argued.

            "Her brothers might." Rain shot back.  "Here, I'll look up the numbers and send them to you…"

*

            "I'm sorry, but we haven't heard from Asherah in a while." Andy informed George.  "And I don't think it's a good idea for her to be involved in this stuff."

            George kept his tone polite and pleasant.  "I think you are underestimating your sister, sir."

            "Look, I'm just trying to-"

            "Protect her?" Asherah supplied, popping up behind Andy, who fell backwards in his chair with a startled shout.  Ignoring her brother, who was at her feet muttering curses, she looked at the knight and gave him a small smile.  "Hello, George de Sand."

            He inclined his head respectfully.  "Miss Asherah."

            Her smile took on a hard edge.  "Just Asherah, please."  She rode right over his apology.  "Marie- Louise was snatched by a mid- level mercenary.  I believe you know the _type_ of mercenary to whom I am referring?"

            George gave a quiet affirmation that no one quite heard; Andy had made it to his feet and was loudly demanding to know what she meant.  

            Asherah didn't so much as look behind her as she kicked her brother out the door, then kicked the door itself shut in his face and turned the lock with her toes.  "If I'm right, and I know who this guy is, you should be able to take him out yourself…"

*

            "I **know** I was supposed to kill the King, but he's tougher than you told me he was, okay?  I can still do it, I just need a little more time-

            "I know that.  And to make sure we stay on cordial terms, I took the liberty of snatching a little insurance…"

            Marie- Louise could hear the loud, angry voice of her kidnapper despite the size of the warehouse (or perhaps because of it; the warehouse was large and isolated) and the fact that he was in the office with the door shut.  

            She tried again to wriggle her way out of the rope that he'd tied her with, but promptly gave up; she'd already rubbed her wrists raw.  

            _George, where **are** you?_  She wondered what his reaction would be when he found out she was missing.  _I'm sure he'll come look for me.  He came looking for me before...  I hope he doesn't just think I'm crying wolf._

_            Then again, he knew in __Paris__ that I forged that kidnapping note, and he came anyway._

_            He came anyway._ she thought in almost- awe.  Her heart sank.  _He came because I am the Princess.  That's all I am to him.  Symbol of the country and the honor code he loves so dearly._

_            I wonder, George, what you really think of me.  Or if you even think of me at all.  _

_            I'm not the silly little girl I was last year.  Funny how quickly life and death situations force you to grow up._ a smile graced her face.  

            _I'll wait for you, George, because you're worth it.  And I'll make you see that I'm more than a Princess._  Her smile widened.  

            Her captor came storming out.  "What're you grinning at?  I'd wipe that smile off your face, girlie.  Because if your daddy doesn't pay up-" he drew a finger suggestively across his throat.

            "I thought your goal was to kill my father, not extort money from him." she replied coolly, but she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes.  

            "Smile, Princess." he mocked, holding up a camera.  "Let Daddy see how happy you are."  

            She held her head proudly instead.  "I am the Princess of Neo- France.  I won't play your games."

            His smile disappeared.  "You know, I think you need an attitude adjustment…"

*

            "George!" the King shouted.  

            "Your Majesty?" he inquired, following the older man into his office.  

            "Tell me you've found something.  Please tell me you've found something." the King implored.

            George had never seen his sovereign in such a state.  _Has he slept at all?_  He started to mention the ribbon, but found himself strangely reluctant at the thought of giving it up.  "Your Majesty, I have been in touch with an American contact of mine who is familiar with the sort of underworld figures who participate in such criminal acts, and she believes she knows who this man is."

            "Well?" the King demanded impatiently.

            "Another American known only by the name Jones."  He didn't think it would be a good idea to mention to the King that the man who kidnapped his daughter had flunked out of a program to train highly skilled American spies, or that he'd been placed in a lower- level program after that… "His own government has been looking for him as well."

            _"You generally don't live very long after defecting from the government's service." Asherah said, a small, wry smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  "He would've turned up dead soon enough."_

            "Do you have any idea who this Jones might be working for?"

            "I was hoping that you might, Your Majesty." George admitted.  

            "I've been racking my brain but I can't come up with a damn thing." the King muttered.  "I did have the clerks draw up a list of everyone who's ever had access to the Palace's blueprints."  He handed the list to George, who was relieved to see that it wasn't too long.  

            "Your Majesty!" a flushed aide cried, bowing so hastily in the doorway that he looked as though he had been stabbed in the stomach.  "Word from the kidnapper!"

            The King was there in an instant, eyes eagerly scanning the paper; when they reached the end, he sagged in disappointment and wordlessly handed it to George.  Lusterless eyes raised themselves to the aide.  "Is there anything else?"

            "No, Your Majesty."

            "Then you are dismissed."

            The aide scrambled gratefully away.  

            George, meanwhile, was studying the communication from Jones.  He wanted the King to hand- deliver a sixteenth of the money in the royal treasury- which despite being a small fraction was quite a large amount, especially for one person- to him at midnight.  Jones would tell him the location itself later, after he'd received a "good faith payment".  All of the money, of course, was to be unmarked…  Accompanying the letter were three pictures of Marie- Louise; in one she held her chin up high with a haughty expression on her face.  In the next, a large hand around her throat held her head underwater, and her face was blue; the third saw the Princess with wet hair and shoulders, pale and coughing.  

            George struggled to control himself.  He could not help Marie- Louise if he didn't keep a calm head, but his blood was boiling.  

            The King, having had more practice, collected himself before George.  "We only have until midnight to find her."

            George cast the pictures and letter away from him and looked fiercely at his King.  "I will find her, Your Majesty, and prevent further harm from coming to her."

A/N:  Yay, more uninteresting stuff!  I think the next chapter will be better about that, though.  Cookies to readers and cakes to reviewers!  


	4. Found

_Until __midnight__.  Until __midnight__.  Until __midnight__…_ a little voice in George's head chanted, driving him from one motel to another, to owners of rented property, and disreputable places where he got into more than one fight merely trying to leave.  

            It was 9:00 when he contacted the rest of the Shuffle Alliance, who had agreed to help him.  Their tired, discouraged faces told him their results before any of them opened their mouths.  

            "What about Asherah?  Did she tell you anything?" 

            George shook his red head.  "Nothing more than I have already shared with you; I tried to contact her again, but failed."

            "Maybe we should try Earth." Rain suggested somewhat hesitantly.  

            "The people there hate us." Shirley reminded her.

            "I know, but what else can we do?" Rain asked helplessly.  

            "Asherah's been working down there anyway.  She told me that things have calmed down a little bit.  A very little bit, but…" Chibodee trailed off when he saw the others looking at him.  "What?"

            "When did she talk to you?" Nastasha inquired.

            "I dunno, a few days after-" he waved his hand dismissively- "that 13th- and- a- half Tournament."

            "What'd she say?" Bunny wanted to know.  

            Chibodee's posture tensed defensively.  "I don't know, just stuff!  She was telling me that she's refining her network of contacts on Earth, and trying to get them to help out with good relations with the colonies and all that…"

            George coughed discreetly.  

            "Enough digression.  Back to business!" Nastasha barked.  

            "Let's go to Earth." George decided.  "We can search in our respective homelands."

*

            It was 10:45, and George's stalwart heart was growing discouraged.  Sighing, he prepared his corelander to go to the next place when Bunny called.  

            "I think we might have something!"

            Heart pounding, trying to tell himself not to hope because it probably didn't mean anything, George sped off.

*

            Chibodee stared, slack- jawed.  "You're here already?"

            "Obviously." the Jack of Diamonds didn't- quite- snap, raising a very French eyebrow.  

            The American snapped his mouth shut and gave his friend a glance out of the corner of his eye- _I know why you got here so fast_- but in deference to the gravity of the situation, replied only, "We think we might have a warehouse."

            "It's 11:50." Shirley tersely informed them.  

            "The King is probably being taken there as we speak." George murmured, stomach tightening.  

            Chibodee leapt into his own corelander.  "I'll show you where it is."

            Heart pounding, hoping with all his being that things would turn out well, George sped after the Queen of Spades.

*

            _11:55_.  George thought, and was impressed with Chibodee's speed despite himself.  He jumped to the ground, where the group of Americans were waiting for him.  

            Wordlessly, Chibodee and George strode side by side toward the doors, with Chibodee's crew following.  

            A testament to what he had learned largely thanks to Asherah, an impressive gout of flame from Chibodee blew the doors open and announced their arrival.  

            Chibodee and George had just entered the building and were looking around for their adversary when he literally dropped down from the ceiling; the Gundam fighters leapt to either side, barely avoiding him.  

            Jones whirled.  He was wearing the same outfit he'd had on when he tried to assassinate the King; all black, easy to move in, with weapons in almost every available spot, and his face covered by a black mask.  

            And speaking of the King, there he was, standing just behind Jones, curiously inactive… until one noticed the odd- looking choker Marie- Louise was sporting.  A piece of coarse rope was tied rather tightly around her neck, with what looked to be a small box in the hollow of her throat.    

            Jones noticed where George's eyes were.  "Yes, Monsieur de Sand, I'm afraid that the Princess is wearing an explosive.  All I have to do is press one button and her head comes off… right in front of dear old Dad."  He smiled at the King, whose face couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to turn red or purple.  "And we wouldn't want that to happen, especially after how his Queen died…"

            The King made a stifled noise and made a massive effort to restrain himself.  

            "George…" Marie- Louise quietly acknowledged.  _You came.  As you always do.  _

            "Are you all right, Miss Marie- Louise?" he asked, and there was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite define… 

            She tossed her head.  "Fine." she replied for the second time that night.  

            Shirley, Bunny, Cath and Janet all started to automatically move toward her, noticing what the men didn't; that slight tremor of fear, the thin, damp nightdress that she was wearing, the way she glanced at her captor and swallowed…  

            "I wouldn't take another step, ladies." Jones told them, thumb hovering over the button.  

            "They will not interfere; they merely wish to ensure that the Princess is indeed unharmed." George spoke up swiftly.  "Surely you would not want to make an exchange without our being confident that this is indeed the Princess, and that she is relatively unharmed?"  Marie- Louise noted the slight, cold stress George placed on "relatively."  

            Jones hesitated.  "Well," he conceded grudgingly, "I don't suppose there's any real harm; that explosive is powerful enough that if I set off the bomb they'd be seriously injured at the least, if they were that close."  

            Chibodee's teal eyes suddenly acquired a dangerous set, and Domon or his Master would have recognized the protective, bestial glint in them.  

            Shirley put a hand to his arm.  "It doesn't matter."  

            He started to say something, but her smile silenced him; he didn't say a word as he watched them cross the warehouse and surround the Princess.  

            Chibodee caught a half- glance from the Frenchman.  _– What?_

            "Well, gentlemen, we were in the middle of something before you interrupted…" Jones said pleasantly, holding the detonator in his right hand and raising the gun in his left, aiming it between the King's eyes.  "I'd appreciate it- and I'm sure the King would too- if you would disarm yourselves."

            Chibodee noticed George's defensive stance, and the hand hovering over his sword; a posture he'd seen Gundam Rose take often, and the memory jogged his realization of what George meant to do.  _Damn!  I hope he can pull this off…_  Chibodee fisted his hands and shifted into a ready- to- run stance.  "So, Jonesie, how much explosive is in that little thing?  I think you're bluffing us." he challenged.  "That thing's so small, you probably couldn't even take out Marie- Louise, let alone my girls."  

            "You're showing your ignorance." Jones insulted in a quiet, edgy tone.  "There are chemicals sensitive enough that a drop of one combined with a drop of another could blow this entire place sky- high.  Of course, such chemicals are extremely expensive, and the ones I managed to procure for the Princess are a little less volatile; nevertheless, they'll get the job done."  

            Chibodee vanished in answer, reappearing next to Jones; George moved at the same time Chibodee did, heading for the King.  

            Jones wasn't so slow as Chibodee expected, and the gun fired.  

            George knew he'd never make it even as he ran as fast as he was able; he didn't have time to think, merely to react.  Instinctively, he used the ability that allowed him to control his Rose Bits, and mentally reached for the bullet…

            He managed to slow it enough that the King received no more than a shallow scratch on his forehead, and the bullet dropped to the ground at his feet.  

            George had made it to the King when another gun barked, but this time, he was surprised, and the bullet tore into his shoulder.  

            "Who?-"

            "George!" Marie- Louise cried, unthinkingly running forward.  She tripped on the ropes binding her feet, and if not for Cath's quick action would have broken her nose on the hard floor.  

            Jones' detonator whipped in her direction.  "I would advise you to stay where you are, Princess."  

            Cath set the girl on her feet again, and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.  "It's okay; look, it only winged him."  

            "Please don't move, Miss Marie- Louise." George politely requested.  

            She made a worried noise, but obediently stayed put, and George searched the shadows for the shooter.  

            "I thought we agreed that I would handle this."  Jones sounded aggravated.  

            "Frankly, Jones, what I've seen from you has lead me to question not only your ability, but your price."  

            The King found the second man before George did.  "Sarge!"

            "That's right." he confirmed, giving the King an eerily emotionless glance.  

            "Who?" Chibodee inquired, punching at Jones and missing.  

            "A general in the French Army." George explained.  "An extremely high- ranking one."

            "French Army…" Chibodee murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking uncontrollably.  "I could say something, but I don't think I will…"

            Jones snorted, and the two men looked at each other for a minute before Chibodee punched again and Jones blocked and waved the detonator threateningly.  Although unfortunately, as Chibodee observed, it came off more like he was shaking a maraca; and with indignantly pink cheeks, Jones aimed his gun and started chasing the Gundam fighter around the warehouse as Chibodee laughed and called him names.  

            The King's face was grave.  "Why?" was all he asked.  

            "I worked for years in your service." the General began; it almost seemed as though he'd been waiting for this.  "I believed the propaganda, all that tripe we're fed from the cradle about the French being an ancient people, about our kingdoms and achievements on old Earth.  I revered you as an ideal leader, identified with you as a warrior king.  Oh, I was loyal.

            "It was right after the Queen died that my absolute faith in you as a leader was shaken.  I saw you fall apart.  I saw you so depressed that you were unable to care for your daughter, so depressed that you were unable to lead your nation.  And although you eventually pulled yourself together, drawing on a reserve of inner strength that I admired, and I told myself that it was good that we had such a man as our King, the seeds of doubt had been planted.  

            "They sprouted in the weeks after the selection of Neo- France's Gundam fighter.  Mirabeau was psychotic, to be sure, but he had proven that he was willing to do anything to win.  We needed such a man to win the 13th Tournament, to lead us to victory, to not only earn the right to rule all space but also to prove to the other nations that we are strong!  Our world is based on strength, and winning the Gundam fight would have given us a measure of respect- and therefore, some small measure of protection- in years to come.  But instead of rewarding Mirabeau's dedication, you imprisoned him, and gave the prize to a foolish self- styled _knight_.  

            "I watched you, watched your respect for George de Sand's idiotic sense of honor grow, saw you beginning to like the boy more and more until he was almost like a son to you.  Our world is based on strength, and instead you were preoccupied with honor.  You failed the nation and people of Neo- France.  

            "I believe in Neo- France, and believe in her people.  Despite it all, I still believe that propaganda… I think it somehow seeped into my bones.  You failed our nation.  I would not.  For the sake of the country I love, I will be her King."

            There was a moment of silence before a clear voice rang out.  "But you're wrong." Marie- Louise called.

            "Be silent, girl.  You don't know what you're talking about.  You're not old enough to know anything." the General ordered contemptuously.  

            "She's right." George took up for her.  

            "My father never failed Neo- France.  He's been a good King!  Had a psycho like Mirabeau won the right to fight for Neo- France, we would have lost the respect you seem to prize so much- and even if he _had_ won the Tournament, who's to say that the other countries wouldn't have banded together to overthrow us, using Mirabeau's mental state as a defense?"

            George looked at the girl with new respect.  _She has grown up indeed…_

            "I said quiet." the General reminded her.  

            "You know I'm right." Marie- Louise insisted firmly, meeting his eyes squarely.  

            Sarge strode toward her briskly.  

            Jones ducked a kick from Chibodee.  "Remember what you told me, you don't want to-"

            "Quiet, Jones." 

            "Just trying to help." the assassin growled, taking out his frustration on Chibodee with a punch to his chest.  Chibodee reciprocated, bruising Jones' shoulder and attempting to swipe the detonator.  

            "Here!" Jones barked in frustration, lobbing the detonator to the General so he could go at Chibodee with both hands.  _After all, it wouldn't be nearly so satisfying to only strangle him with one hand._  

            George ran forward, but Sarge was closer and caught it one- handed.  "Don't throw this thing around!"

            Jones was too busy to reply.  

            "Don't hurt her!" George shouted, chasing after the General.  Chibodee's girls closed in around Marie- Louise, forming a protective wall.  

            The King blocked Sarge's path.  "I cannot say I have always been the leader that Neo- France deserves, but I have done my best, and I cannot believe that I have failed so miserably as you seem to think."

            Sarge tried to shove him aside, but the King's feet were planted.  

            Jones and Chibodee had made it up into the ceiling by this point, and Chibodee managed to land a kick that knocked the assassin off balance and off the rafters.  

            George noticed Jones out of the corner of his eye and tackled the King; they hit the floor at the same moment that Jones hit the General.  The detonator flew out of the General's hand.  

            The four men on the floor sat stunned for an instant before scrambling madly for the detonator.  

            Chibodee jumped down, aiming for Jones but hitting Sarge instead; in the confusion caused by his entrance, Jones, through a kick to the King's groin and a blocked elbow to George's face, came up with the detonator.  

            Jones, George, and Chibodee slowly got to their feet.  Chibodee tried Asherah's pet vanishing trick again, but like before, Jones was ready for it and responded with a backhand.  He missed the American's nose, but managed to bust his upper lip.  Chibodee's life was further complicated when the General came alive and yanked an ankle; Chibodee landed flat on his back and between the blow to his head and getting the wind knocked out of him, the room was spinning like a top.  

            The King lay on the floor, doing his best not to clutch his- erm, business- and groan; Sarge sat on Chibodee's chest and pounded away at the arms he'd thrown up in hasty, half- hearted defense; and George and Jones were circling each other.  

            Shirley, George, and Jones all moved at the same time; Shirley ran forward, jumped on the General's back, and maintained a deathgrip around his throat, while George and Jones rushed at each other, Jones with his finger over the button.  

            Sarge leapt to his feet with a speed unexpected in a man of his size and flung Shirley this way and that, while Chibodee tried to find his way up off the floor.  Finally the General got smart and started flinging himself backward against the wall; Shirley took three hits before figuring out how to keep her grip on his throat and swing sideways when he went back.  _A couple more hits and he'll dislocate my shoulder-_  "Hurry up and get your sorry ass over here, Chibodee!"

            George waited until he was within range, then whipped out his sword and stabbed the detonator.  

            Jones smirked as Marie- Louise cried out.  "Shouldn't have done that!"

            George made an attempt with the sword that Jones only just managed to evade.  "What have you done?!"

            "Hey, **I'm** not the one that shorted out the detonator!" Jones retorted, smirk still solidly stuck in place.  

            "What- have- you- done?" George demanded, making a different strike with his blade after each word; he landed a shallow cut across the other man's abdomen, a deeper one on his chest, and laid open the assassin's shoulder to the bone.  Jones replied with four gunshots, but didn't succeed in doing anything more than winging the Frenchman's thigh.  

            They separated again.  "There were no chemicals or explosives in there.  Just a little something to provide an electric shock.  She does have an attitude problem, you know…"

            George recalled, with awful clarity, the pictures of a sodden Marie- Louise.  "Is that why you half- drowned her?"

            "Of course." Jones scoffed.  

            "But why not put chemicals or explosives in there?  And wouldn't she know the difference?" George asked, thinking out loud.  

            "Like I said, chemicals and explosives are expensive." Jones answered in a tone that would have been conversational if it hadn't been for the nasty edge in it.  "Besides, if that goes on long enough, it can do some damage.  And she didn't know that it was just something to shock her; she was unconscious when I put it on."  

            George feinted a stab toward Jones' wounded shoulder, then slashed upward, aiming at the underside of the other man's chin; his opponent moved sideways, and the sword only managed to provide Jones with a gash that went all the way up his head that would one day be a nasty scar.  His mask fell off.  

            Jones was an extremely nondescript, balding man, who looked thoroughly, boringly average.  _Of course, blending in would be a very useful tool for an assassin._  

            He aimed and George both aimed at the other's heart simultaneously and stared at each other.  

            Marie- Louise's pained cries, and the sounds of Chibodee's girls, rang in his ears.  _What will you do, George de Sand?  What is a knight to do?_

*

            Chibodee lurched to his feet.  _Shirley- I hear Shirl- what's she bitching about?  …**oh**.  _

            He walked over to the General, who punched at him; Chibodee ducked his fist and used the movement to add power to his own punch at the older man's stomach.  Between Shirley's grip on his throat and the blow to his abdomen, Sarge couldn't breathe and sank slowly to the floor.  

            "We should probably tie him up or something." Chibodee speculated.  

            "With what?" Shirley demanded, striking him in the arm.  

            "Ow!"  

            "That's for not coming over here sooner!  My back's going to be black and blue!"  

            "That's your own fault!"  

            "Is not!"

            They might have stood there all night arguing if Cath hadn't interrupted.  "Come over here and see if you can figure out what's wrong with her!"

            Marie- Louise was twitching and struggling against her bonds again; the girls couldn't get her to stay still long enough to take any of the rope off of her.  

            Chibodee finally had to hold her while his crew removed her bonds, but when he tried to take off the choker, he couldn't figure out the knots that Jones had tied in it and was unable to fiddle with it since he got shocked every time he touched it.  

            Chibodee stared at the rope helplessly.  "I don't know what we can do.  We need a knife or something."  He looked over to George and Jones.  

*

            They moved at the same time, both of them drawing blood.  

            George got laboriously to his feet, drawing his sword out of Jones' stone- still chest and putting a hand over his own wound.  

            "Frenchie!"

            George was about to let Chibodee have it with both barrels before realizing that Marie- Louise was still whimpering.  

            Chibodee again held the Princess, and George cut the rope off with only a small scratch to the girl's neck.  He caught her as Chibodee loosened his grip and she fell forward; tipping her chin up, he worriedly studied her eyes.  "Are you all right?"

            "George." she murmured.  

            "Yes, it's me."

            "You came."

            "Of course."

            "You always come."  
  


            "And I always will."

            She smiled, and seemed to come back to herself.  Her gaze drifted to the blood on his usually pristine white clothes.  "You're hurt!"

            "It's nothing, Miss Marie- Louise.  Please don't trouble yourself."  But he couldn't hide the wince as he got to his feet, and helped her to hers.  His violet eyes drifted to the wrist of the small hand still in his own.  "You're hurt as well."

            "It's nothing." she echoed him.  

            "We'll call an ambulance." Chibodee muttered to George, eyeing them speculatively and giving his friend a wink before moving off, his girls clucking over his wounds.  They stopped and collected the King on their way out.  

            Marie- Louise started shivering.  "Are you cold?  Here." said George, putting his jacket around her shoulders.  

            "Could I see your sword for a minute?" she asked.  

            "Why?"

            "I need it." she answered darkly.  

            He handed it over with a twinge of trepidation; but she was the Princess, after all.  

            Marie- Louise held the sword in a steady hand, walked back over to where the little box lay, and proceeded to reduce one small box to a million small pieces.  

            She came back over to him and returned the sword.  "Thank you."

            George couldn't keep a smile off his face as they slowly made their way toward the door.

            "I'm sorry you had to kill a man for me." Marie- Louise said quietly.  

            "I'm not.  A man who would do such things deserves death, and he would have found his soon enough." he replied harshly.  

            "Nevertheless, it must be a hard thing, knowing that you've taken a life, no matter how despicable the man."  She wrapped an arm around his waist and took on half his weight.  

            George was surprised, and his cheeks burned as he looked down on her disheveled golden head, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything as they walked toward the group waiting outside.  

A/N:  You know the drill.  Cookies to readers and cakes to reviewers.  Also, the reason Jones was reluctant to harm Marie- Louise was because the General planned to have her father killed and take control of the throne, using the military to do so; after seizing power, Sarge planned to marry Marie- Louise to further legitimize his rule.  One more chapter to go!


	5. Home

"We miss you inside." Marie- Louise said softly in French, stepping onto a balcony.  

            George turned to look at her.   "How are you feeling, Miss Marie- Louise?"

            "I'm fine." she replied, looking over the edge and fighting a sudden urge to cry.  _I'm such a fool.  Last night I thought… but now we're back to this._  She couldn't help it; a tear rolled down her cheek, silvery in the moonlight.  

            George wiped it away with a finger.  "What's wrong?  Are you all right?"

            "Fine." she murmured, turning away.   

            He came up behind her and uncertainly placed his hands on her shoulders.  "Please, if there is anything I can do…"

            "George…"

            "Yes?"

            She put her head on his chest and cried.  

            George stared down at her in shock.  

            "I- I was so worried about you." she sniffled.  "You had all that blood on you…"

            George's shocked expression softened into a somewhat sad one, and he rubbed her back soothingly.  "I am fine.  Those wounds looked worse than they were; and as a Gundam fighter, I am accustomed to injury."

            She didn't say anything for a minute; then, "I can hear your heart beat."

            "See?" he asked, a thread of humor apparent in his tone.  "I am fine.  You have no reason to worry."  He moved away from her, and she watched him go with large, still- watery eyes.  

            "George.  Why do you always come for me?" she burst out suddenly.  

            "P- pardon?"

            "Why do you always come for me?"  Harder this time, and steel shimmered in her gaze.  

            "You are the Princess.  I am sworn to fight for you." he floundered.  

            "And that's the only reason." 

            "…"

            She started walking toward him, and George battled an urge to run he hadn't felt even when he'd thought he was facing down death in Lantil Island.  

            She stopped a foot away from him.  "I watched you fight the Dark Gundam.  I remember thinking you'd died, being afraid that you were going to die every second… and I can't describe the joy I felt every time it didn't happen.  

            "I'm not a child anymore, George.  I'm not the little girl I was last year.  

            "I think it was the Gundam fight that did it to me.  Seeing the reality of a fight in a way I hadn't before… being old enough to realize what was going on, and realize exactly what the Tournament was… and then the Dark Gundam."  Her eyes darkened, acquired something he'd never seen in them before.  He'd never seen her this way; and he couldn't take his eyes off her.  

            "I saw you fight that thing.  I saw you stand with your friends, ready to sacrifice your life for something larger than you, or me.  I saw the Gundams of the world come together to defend it; I'd never seen the like.  Never imagined anything like it.  

            "It made me reexamine my priorities, rethink who I was and who I wanted to be.  And no matter what I did, I couldn't get rid of this feeling I have for you."

            "Miss Marie- Louise-" he began, without knowing what to say.

            "You're going to say it can't work." she preempted quietly.  

            He bowed his head.

            "**Why not**?" she cried.

            "I-"

            "Why not.  Tell me why not." she demanded, wounded eyes trained on him.  

            George felt trapped.  "You're- you're so _young_…"

            "I'm old enough to be kidnapped." she retorted heatedly.  "And I'm old enough to realize that you care about me, you just won't let yourself admit it because you think I'm _too young_.  Seven years isn't that much of a difference, George; my parents were further apart.  You're going to have to do better than that."

            "Princess-"

            "Oh, so it's because my father's the King, is it?  He wouldn't be happy at first, I'll give you that, but he'd come around.  Even Jones noticed how much he likes you.  Give me another reason."

            George's violet eyes were as sad as she had ever seen them.  "You will be an extraordinary woman someday, Miss Marie- Louise… but today, you are only a girl."

            She took a long breath.  "Only a girl." she repeated dully.  

            "I am sorry." George offered, knowing how inadequate it was.

            "Only a girl." she repeated to herself, again, moving forward and cornering him against the railing.  

            George opened his mouth to speak, but she put a gentle hand under his chin and closed it, then pressed her lips to his for a long moment before breaking away.  "I've tried- oh, how I've tried- to stop feeling this way." she informed him quietly.  "But I can't.  Just as you will always come for me, I will always wait for you, as a girl or as a woman.  There is no one else.  There never will be.  There never can be.

            "You may think of me as a silly little girl, and I was once.  But I've seen… I've grown up, in this past year.  I've realized some things that I'd never thought of before.  

            "You can't tell me that that meant nothing to you, that you felt nothing.  You would be lying if you did, and I know it.  You **do** have feelings for me, George; you are just afraid, and you run from them."

            His voice was lower and rougher than usual.  "Are you calling me a coward?"

            She met his gaze calmly.  "I suppose so."

            Marie- Louise turned and went inside without another word, leaving behind a very confused, frustrated George de Sand.

*

            A week had passed, and Marie- Louise sat alone in the rose garden, turning one of the flowers over and over in her hands.  _Perhaps I was too forward.  Perhaps I chased him away.  Before, if nothing else, he was there.  _

_            But I did the only thing I could do.  I had to; it was time.  And I meant every word.  _Lost in thought, she'd stopped paying attention to the flower in her hands, and a thorn pricked her finger.  She raised the digit to her face and stared at the bright drop of blood.

            "Does it hurt?"

            She jumped, dropping the rose; George bent, retrieved it, and offered it to her.  Marie- Louise took it gently, sucking on her finger.  

            He seated himself beside her.  "I thought about what you said."

            She looked at him, but didn't say anything.  She couldn't have if she'd wanted to.  

            "You were right." he admitted quietly.  

            "And so?"

            "I talked to your father."

            "What did he say?"

            George smiled.  "He reacted exactly as you said he would- he wasn't happy, but we came to an understanding."

            "Which is?"

            "I am yours… if you still want me."

            She threw her arms around him; laughing, George tipped her face up and kissed her.  

A/N:  I think that once she grew up a little, Marie- Louise would make a good partner for George; she understands him (at least a little), she's in love with him, he cares for her (and I think he could fall in love with her, given a chance), and I think that her personality is a good balance for his- she's comfortable letting him come to her rescue and basically be in charge, but she's not helpless on her own, either.  Thanks for reading, and cookies to readers and cakes to reviewers!  

This story was written for the wonderful LivEvil- check out her stuff!  


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